


Warm and Alive

by theothardus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, During Canon, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Romance, Trauma, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theothardus/pseuds/theothardus
Summary: What happens between Eren and Mikasa after they faced the smiling Titan."...He knew she didn’t have the same flame for freedom he had, so what was she longing for?"
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	Warm and Alive

Mikasa was never letting go of him.

Every time the horse buckled, she tightened her hold around his torso. Eren was warm and alive. Hand twisting desperately in his shirt, she wanted him to stay that way. With hot tears, she repeated the mantra.

_Warm and alive. He’s warm and alive._

She could not stop crying, even after Eren’s eyes had long dried up. He seemed unusually limp. In the back of her mind, she worried he just might let them fall off the horse. His eyes had lost their light. Blank. Open, but looking at nothing.

She wasn’t numb, yet. She could feel everything in her body. Adrenaline. Relief. Buzzing love. Gut-wringing grief. She could not stop crying, and all those emotions could be the reason, but she knew her undying empathy for Eren was the explanation. 

If there was a God, she hated Him. He made Eren live through hell on Earth. Again. 

She feared what this might do to him. Each time life knocked the air out of him, she saw the hell-bent boy she loved chip away.

Watching his mother get eaten alive—

Blood on his hands after every battle—

Torture of a soldier the public does not understand—

Each victory tangled with trauma from the fight—

His child dreams shoved into the dirt—repeatedly.

—watching the same Titan stain its grinning mouth with the blood of a friend—

—powerless, again.

She knew they couldn’t run away from this. They would have to face more trauma in the future. But right now, she pretended they were heading to a safe house on horseback, somewhere no vile humans or Titans could find. They would live in peace. He would be happy and healthy. 

Between the two of them, she was the realist. He let his naïve ambitions lead him to a lion’s den, which was exactly why she was against him joining the military. If he just listened to her for once, they wouldn’t be dragged into this messy excuse for a life.

No. 

No, that’s not true. 

She looked up to him. She had skill in physical strength, but he had the mental fortitude of the walls that protected them. His ambitions could be naïve, but without them, humanity would not have a chance. It is his heart that drives their entire species forward. It is his courage that gives them a future. Knowing Eren has been Mikasa’s greatest privilege. Without him, she would have died long ago because she would have given in to the odds against her.

The horse slowed. She wasn’t sure if she hadn’t been paying attention to the conversations around her, or if the post-traumatic stress her comrades silent. She started to hear whispers, but it wasn’t her friends. It was the rumble of a crowd.

She hated the looks the townspeople gave them. She didn’t have to open her eyes to see them. 

It felt like forever, but eventually, the whispers faded, and the horse stopped completely.

“We have to get off now, Mikasa.”

Eren hadn’t spoken for a while. His voice came out strained, and as he spoke, it was evident he could tell he sounded off. 

She squeezed him, swallowing the lump in her throat that threatened to turn into a sob.

His hand grasped hers. 

“Come on,” he breathed.

He was right. She needed to get herself together. She didn’t feel right breaking down in front of him, even if it was her breaking down for him. 

She opened her eyes. It was pitch black, save for the distant lamps that lit the walkways of a military headquarters. Mikasa thought about the time; it was dusk when they left the battlefield—violet, carnage-smeared lands—and though the ride back was a contradiction of slowed time and a speedy, blurred memory, she knew it had to have been at least a few hours for them to make it to their destination. 

After handing the horse off, Mikasa sat in silence, observing the people around her. Not all her comrades or commanding officers were there, most notably Commander Erwin. He must have been the first to be taken from the group, as he required the most immediate medical attention. She watched Eren talk to a higher-up. Everything seemed to be on mute.

She didn’t know where Armin was. Perhaps he was being questioned or treated for injuries. She saw the officer walk away from Eren, and hesitantly, he turned back toward her. They locked eyes for a long while. Not a person knew what they now shared. Everyone was coming home with PTSD, but no one else could relate their experience but them. Just the two of them. 

Still, Mikasa wondered if he fully understood what she was trying to tell him. In the grand scheme of things, her feelings didn’t matter. They would not save humanity. Because of that, she didn’t feel the need to tell Eren what she felt for him. He had his heart set in his ambitions, and she would be damned to interfere. 

But, watching his mental breakdown confirmed for Mikasa how unhealthily hard on himself he could be. From the look on his face whenever he faced a challenge, before determination hardened him, she could see the doubt. He didn’t think he was special. Mikasa thought that was funny. If anyone wasn’t special, it was her. He was the one who ran into her life wielding a knife and blue-hot eyes. 

She had to tell him: someone saw him in a way he couldn’t see himself. He was extraordinary to them. He changed the course of their life, busting out the ceiling and allowing them to ascend. They loved him so much it made them sick. Despite never voicing how they felt, they never took him for granted. He had to know about that person.

Eren walked toward her, but never noticed him walk. She just watched as his eyes got closer.

“I told them to lay off the questions tonight,” he said in a smooth voice. “To let us get some sleep.”

She nodded softly. Then, her irises glistened with concern.

“What about injuries?” Mikasa grabbed his arm, looking at his hand. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the gash was reduced to a rosy bite mark, but she was. “You should get checked out.”

“I don’t need to do that.” 

She could hear a tinge of irritation—the normal response when she worried for him. Though, he was gentler in delivery. He seemed to be gentler toward her in general.  
“I just want to sleep,” he said. It was clear he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. “Let’s go find our rooms.”

* * *

Doing something as simple as changing into something comfortable felt strange. Everything normal felt strange when coming back from battle. When the Titans were gone, the silence could eat you alive.

After changing, Mikasa was quick to go back to Eren’s room.

He sat on the edge of his bed, forehead crinkled. She joined him on the bed, not too far, but not too close.

They didn’t need to speak to each other. There was enough comfort between them in their friendship for speech to not matter. They still felt discomfort, but discomfort because they didn’t know what to do. Stay, go, lie down, stand up. The stagnation had them trapped.

Eren decided to speak. “You don’t have to stay here. You’d be more comfortable in your own bed.”

He glanced at her. She had the scarf neatly folded in her lap. He looked at that scarf differently, now. He knew she lugged it around like a toddler dragging their favorite blanket, and he figured it had a nostalgic sentiment to her, but he never imagined that sentiment had to do with him. 

Mikasa said nothing, fiddling her thumbs.

Eren was grateful to her, too. He didn’t know how to say it to her. He felt guilty; unlike her, he didn’t have incessant thoughts of telling her thank you and didn’t think too much about being grateful for her until that moment, when she pulled him out of his turmoil. Did that mean he took her for granted? He felt like an asshole.

He looked to her again. The wind trickled its way through the cracked window, falling on the black ends of her hair. He acted without thinking, grabbing the scarf on her lap, pulling it open, and winding it around her neck. 

“What I said…” Eren clenched the ends of the old red cloth, firmly taking hold as though he were holding Mikasa herself. “I meant.”

That was how he said thank you.

She felt her cheeks burn, remembering his words.

_“Always and forever.”_

Back on the battlefield, their faces had gotten close. Their faces were getting close again. No, they were closer. She could feel the warmth of his breath. She was sure she was the one leaning in, but he didn’t bother moving away. If anything, his hold on her scarf tightened.

They didn’t know what they were doing. They were entranced, and both weren’t sure if it was the deliria from battle or something more. Eren was the more uncertain of the two. Mikasa was his best friend. Family. Practically his sister. Why did she give him that look? It was the same look she gave him earlier, like a love no one has ever given to him. He always thought she tried to assume the role of his mother, but this wasn’t motherly love he felt. He could see longing in her. Sadness, too. Almost like the worst thing imaginable: a bird, trapped in a cage, wishing to fly.

Longing. That’s what it was. He knew she didn’t have the same flame for freedom he had, so what was she longing for? 

_Me?_ He thought.

If they moved even slightly, their lips would brush.

 _Shut up, Eren_ , he told himself. _Ridiculous. Why are you even thinking of Mikasa that_ way.

She was absorbed in his blue eyes. She absolutely loved them.

He felt the smooth skin of her lip. 

Eren jumped back. Their trance was shattered.

He turned his body on the bed, facing the wall.

“Its past midnight,” he said.

Mikasa was willing her heart to calm down. She couldn’t believe she almost kissed him. Eren. She couldn’t believe he almost kissed her back.

“Right,” she said.

She lied down beside him. Their backs were now touching. 

Their eyes were tired, but their neurons never ceased fire. They lied there for minutes, hours, and as they assumed the other was asleep, they continued to blink in the darkness. 

Eren’s shoulder blades brushed hers. They left, then came back again. Mikasa thought it was his breath at first. As they continued their movement, she noticed he was shivering. She opened her mouth, but as she turned to talk to him, a soft sob erupted from him. 

She dipped her arm between them, and when she found his hand, she grabbed it. The noises that came from him calmed for a moment. She interlocked her slender fingers with his thicker ones, making sure he could feel her heartbeat through her palm. She couldn’t fight a smile as he squeezed her hand back.

Soft crying noises continued until the sun rose, but there was some peace in that they shared that moment together, like all the pain they, Mikasa and Eren, had shared up to that day.


End file.
